HetaStage
by Imagimanga
Summary: The new actors hoped to find a new job at a famous theater, but what they found wasn't what they wanted or expected. Now this large group will have to start anew and make sure that this theater can continue running. In order to do that, someone intends to train them in the acting arts vigorously and they must cooperate together without revealing too much about their past. !Dropped!
1. Pilot

HetaStage

 _Setting- 1920's, NYC_

 _A large building towers over the rest of the city. In the top floor is an office. Two men sit across from each other, staring. They both study the other._

 _One, the visitor, notices the other wearing a slightly skewed tie. It sits over a white buttoned dress shirt and underneath a grey vest. The visitor also notices that the man wears a pair of brown shoes that don't particularly match with the overall appearance. The other man has his right hand—the one wearing a golden wristwatch—is on top of the briefcase the visitor was meant to retrieve. The host cocks his head, revealing his beautiful blue eyes. The host gives a mischievous smile as he tucks golden hair behind his left ear._

 _The host squints as he observes a small piece of paper in the visitor's left pocket of his blue jacket. The blue jacket is worn over a white buttoned dress shirt and black tie. His black trousers were bought only two hours ago. The visitor had black worn shoes. So unclean. The visitor stares back at the host with his purple eyes and brushes away his brown hair to watch the host._

" _And?"_

 _The host's smile fades. "It's your win, Will." His voice becomes grim. "Take the money."_

" _If I don't?" The visitor grins. He could finally win this battle._

 _A gun appears from out of the host's desk. He points it to the visitor and glares. "Take it."_

" _I won't be taking the money, thank you." Will stands and tips his head to acknowledge his leave._

" _We're not done here," the host says._

" _Why not?" Will readjusts his coat and clears his throat. "I have business some other place. Please hurry."_

" _Take the money already!" The host rises from his seat. "I'm getting tired of this fight. Just take it!"_

 _Will looks at the gun then back at the other man. He grabs the tip of the gun with his thumb, index, and middle finger without breaking eye contact with the host. "No." He shoves the gun out of the man's hand, but is only faced with another one in the host's left hand._

 _He dances away from the gun, avoiding a bullet to the shoulder. He looks up to the host and lifts up a hand. "I just need information, not money, Floyd."_

 _Floyd points the gun at Will. "You'll regret this."_

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait." A man wearing a gray shirt with a yellow bird plastered over it immediately interrupted the meeting. "How come Alfred and Roderich are the main characters of the story?"

"They aren't," a man with a German accent grumbled, " _Gilbert._ He wasn't finished telling us the story."

A man with long blond hair spoke up. "Can everyone quiet down please? I want to know what will happen." His speech was covered in a French accent.

A man with a brown curl swirling away from his face stood up. "I don't like the story. Change it."

"Lovi, settle down." A similar man tugged on the other man's arm. Both had slight Italian accents. "He'll get angry at you again."

"Hey, Yao." A tall man gently pushed another man who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. "Wake up, or he'll get angry at you, too."

"I don't care about that guy, Ivan," Yao grumbled, his eyes still closed.

Ivan sighed. He watched the chaotic scene as Yao continued to mumble about someone burning very graphically.

"I like the idea of being the main character." Everyone turned to a man with brown hair and glasses. "Why don't you want me to be the main character, _Gilbert?_ "

"Why does everyone say my name like that?!" Gilbert yelled.

"I don't know about everyone else, but to me it sounds ugly." A boy with golden, wavy hair stated. His purple eyes sparkled at his joke behind his glasses.

"I don't think it's ugly," a similar-looking boy said. He had golden hair, but it wasn't as wavy. He had a strand of hair falling over his face unlike the other boy who had a curl that strangely floated in the air. He also wore glasses, but he had blue eyes. "Well, not too ugly."

"It's not ugly," a girl with chesnut hair said. She smiled at Gilbert. "It's perfect."

"Hey, what about me?" A man with brown hair and green eyes jumped towards the girl. "Isn't Antonio a perfect name for me?" The girl giggled, her green eyes sparkling in the light.

"Give the poor girl a break, Toni. Listening to a guy like you seems pretty tiring." A man with an English accent mumbled. "Liz isn't going to date you any time soon."

"Don't talk to me, old man!" Antonio shot.

"Please quiet down, everyone. It's already bad enough that over half of our actors couldn't be here today."

Everybody stopped arguing and Yao let his eyes open in spite of himself. They turned to the man whose radiating aura filled the room. No one liked it when that man was angry, and they'd rather him have his usual snappy and annoying personality than him having a really bad temper.

"I'd like to elaborate on what the plot of the story should be."

"Definitely not reenacting the Revolutionary War," The boy who had blond hair and blue eyes said.

" _Really_ , Alfred?" Everyone looked away as the man started his usual sarcasm rant. "I was actually thinking of doing that, you know. I mean, it would have been totally amazing because of the 'talent' we all have. It would have gone great considering most of us don't even look either British or American. The accents most of us have would be a bump in the road, but with a little practice we could sound just like you, right? The Revolutionary War..."

Alfred narrowed his eyes as he watched the man continue his rant. "We're not a reenactment group of history filled with old people, _Alfred_."

"I was just kidding," Alfred said, standing. "You really can't take a joke, can you?" He stood face to face with the man.

"Oh, please. I can take a joke." The man smirked and cocked his head, dark hair falling to one side. "After all, I hired you."

Alfred laughed and grabbed the man's collar. "You're not laughing, though."

"So funny I'm actually dying on the inside," the man whispered, a smirk playing on his lips. He stepped away from Alfred and left the room. "If you guys won't cooperate with me then I guess you can make up your own story, right?"

"That's the fourteenth time he's walked out on us," the Frenchman said. "Though I don't blame him. You guys aren't taking this very seriously."

"It's also the sixth time it was Alfred's fault," the twin said.

"Mattie, you're counting?" Alfred grinned. The twin nodded and flopped onto the couch, his head falling over the armrest. Matthew faced Alfred and smiled.

"Ever since the second time."

"You really shouldn't be fighting with him, Alfred," Elizaveta said. "It's not good for any of us. Especially because this is a new acting job for all of us."

"It's only been a week. I don't think we all would get along from the beginning," Ludwig said.

* * *

"What?" Everyone gaped at the man in front of them.

"All of the actors left because of financial issues," the man explained. "When I got here everything was pretty much gone."

Elizaveta looked at him with sympathy. "So... nothing's here? We can't be actors here?"

"No," the man almost sighed, wondering how to explain. "I talked with the previous manager of the theater. I told him I could use the theater and he gave it to me. Well, it won't be mine until I can pay for it. Which means I have to find actors and raise enough money to take the theater."

"We can be your actors!" Francis offered. "We all wanted to act here, but we were devastated when we found it the theater was shut down."

The man looked up and tried to count how many people were in the building. There were a lot of them. Over twenty people were trying to find an acting job here. The theater used to be very famous and always took in newbie actors as long as they were good. What the man noticed was that over half of these people were men, and it made him feel a bit uncomfortable. What could they do with a cast with mostly men? He sighed softly.

"Are you sure you can do this?" The man lifted his arms, gesturing to the entire room they were in. "If we fail, this will happen again."

"We won't," Arthur said. He grinned. "I assure it."

"Let's start with introductions," Antonio said. "I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Just call me Toni."

And the introductions continued. There were twin Italians, though they stated they were triplets and that the third wasn't a very good actor. There was a Frenchman who was perhaps the most polite out of all of the men. A Hungarian girl, Elizaveta, was definitely most polite out of everybody who wanted to be hired. A third most polite was probably the Russian, Ivan. Ivan said that his sisters didn't know that he was trying out to be an actor, and told everyone that he hoped it would stay that way. A pair of siblings from Germany could have been depicted as normal so far. There was a very enthusiastic Greek man who couldn't stop talking about the cats that always appeared outside his apartment. The Austrian was very kind and he looked like a very promising actor. An Englishman, Arthur, perceived to be very lazy, but he seemed promising as well. Then there were two more brothers, Alfred and Matthew. They were teens, and the man knew they would be a hassle. A group of five men in a corner didn't introduce themselves, but that was because one—his name was probably Mathias—was climbing the wall for some odd reason. They weren't the only ones who didn't introduce themselves, though. A group of three Asians were too busy consoling a crying boy of the same ethnicity. They must be some family, the man thought. Many of them, in fact, didn't present themselves. The man didn't mind that most of them couldn't introduce themselves right at that moment. Actually, he didn't want to remember any of these names.

"What about you?" Roderich asked.

"Me?" the man clarified. Roderich nodded, albeit confusedly. Who else would he be talking to? The man paused and opened his mouth slightly. For some strange reason he was thinking. Why would he think about his own name?

"Call me..." This didn't look fun at all. But it was the only way he could afford the roof over his head. He didn't really want to take on the challenge of training all of these people into amazing actors. It was even more frustrating that he felt he couldn't cooperate well with them. It was probably an effect from being such a huge shut-in. He had to do this, though. He needed the money. "Kiku."

* * *

 **AN: Hetalia AU wherein the characters are human and are in this kind of play group where they act out a bunch of stuff including history. The idea's that Hetalia is actually one of their plays and that's why they have such differing personalities from the nations.**

 **If I ever want to continue to this, it will take a long time to update because I want to prioritize my other stories. Stay patient, please. Take some patience cookies to help. 🍪**


	2. Plot

**AN: I already know how I want to end this story.**

* * *

Kiku sighed into his cold coffee cup and peered out the window. Nothing was going right. Nothing was going right, and he was going to get in trouble for it! He had to find out how to fix those people. With a swift movement, he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and started a draft message.

 _Meet at the theater 2morrow at 3_

Simple and to the point. No need for formalities because the receiver was an old friend, and Kiku didn't particularly care about being formal either. He was just glad that he had someone to help him with the new actors.

He sent it and pocketed the phone. With another heaving sigh, he rested his chin on his hand. It would be a very tiring day tomorrow.

* * *

"Catch it!" Arthur yelled out.

Alfred turned his head to the man and opened his mouth. He was about to make a retort when a large box crashed into his face. He felt glass shatter against his eyelids and he was fuming. Alfred ran over to Arthur and picked him up by his collar. The first punch of the fight was spared, however, as Kiku opened the door and entered the room.

"Alfred, what are you doing?" Kiku asked with a raised brow. He moved to the two men and pushed both away from each other. "I don't want any fist fights! I don't pay for your healthcare!"

"He's the one who threw the box!" Alfred fumed. He pointed to his eyes. "And what about my glasses? Will you pay for my glasses' healthcare?!"

"Hey- I warned you about it!" Arthur accused. He pointed to Alfred's chest. "And I don't-"

" _Please,"_ Kiku stressed, "calm down and shut up. We have a guest." He turned to the door and gestured for someone to come in.

A young man appeared from behind the door and smiled politely. He wore a simple jacket over a black shirt and jeans. His glimmering eyes peeked out of dark brown hair. "Hello. I'm Isaac. I'm an experienced actor. I'll be everyone's acting mentor." He stuck out his hand to Alfred.

Alfred shook Isaac's hand. "Alfred Jones."

"Arthur Kirkland," Arthur introduced. He and Isaac nodded out of approval.

Kiku checked this off of his mind. Now that Isaac and the rest of the group were introducing each other, they were one step closer to bringing this place to succession. Once he could get this over with, he could soon finally achieve his dream. He was careful to keep the grin inside of himself. Regret was only a word to describe things you thought you didn't deserve. But Kiku doesn't think like that. Everything was here for his taking, and he was going to achieve whatever he can even if it means white lies. Besides, everybody was benefiting from this. It wasn't as if he was cheating them.

"Why don't you all go practice onstage for a while?" Kiku suggested. He wanted some time to think by himself. "I'll be brainstorming for a script as you guys are practicing."

The group simultaneously moved backstage to start practice. Kiku instantly fell in a chair and let his breath sigh. He had to start getting serious about this. Writing a script wasn't easy. It was just as difficult as story writing, it had to be unique enough catch the audience's attention while being natural and steady. Kiku muttered to himself about details considering the actors.

He had met up with every single actor and watched their auditions. All of them seemed either good at acting or decent. It was almost bizarre how this many actors wanted to be hired right after the theater had been shut down. You'd think that the news of a famous theater would spread quickly, so it seemed strange that so many didn't know about the news.

Kiku rubbed his temples to clear his head. Plot. Plot. Plot. What is the plot? What is plot? Focus, Kiku! Focus! He cursed and let his head fall to his hands. His mind wandered from simple ideas to big ideas then back to small details. Kiku stood up to grab a piece of paper and a pencil. As he picked the tools up he noticed a red apple on the desk.

His other hand grabbed at the apple and lifted it to his face. Who left it here? He chuckled in spite of himself. Maybe someone poisoned it, he thought, placing the apple back down. He cocked his head in inspiration. Poisoned apple... It reminded him of Snow White. His head dipped further and he contemplated the idea.

A sly little grin played its way on his face like a fox. He sat down quickly and started writing. His eyes flickered in excitement behind his ebony bangs. This was an idea he wouldn't regret. And he already thought up a title.

His hands posed over the first line of the paper and he started writing.

* * *

Isaac grinned. This was a group of actors full of potential. Lovino raised a brow at him. Was the man going crazy? Isaac clapped his hands. "Alright! Let's start some exercises!"

* * *

 _Snow White and the Poison Prince_

* * *

 **AN: But I don't know how it will start.**

 **Super short, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and take some cookies!**


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